La Cabuche.
The immediate calm provoked by the feeling of a beautifully composed landscape, as the one surrounding La Cabuche, has a counterpart. There is, in this extreme tranquillity, a sense of strangeness, a vibrant worrying feeling suspended in the air. The beauty of a ‘‘natural’’ scene, as it was discovered at the time of William Gilpin’s picturesque in the XVIIIth century, comes with a proportional amount of awe, or even fear.
La Cabuche is one of these spots. Uniquely accessible for Sunday strollers, therefore only by foot, it has the qualities of David Lynch’s famous One Eyed Jack, the brothel located across the Canadian border in British Columbia. Tiny in size, the stone cabin emerges from the vineyards to welcome wine tasters as in a secret community reunion, away from the city. The city is at view distance; its lights oscillate and enhance the disturbing sensation.
The canopy protects the face of Van Gogh from the sun; its simple straw hat draws a horizontal line in the sky floating over the vineyards. The blue fluorescent sign announces the improbability of a normal occupation of the house.
Another fluorescent oval white light fills the interior. It illuminates the odd space and guest’s faces seating on a powerful contrasting colour. But for now they have disappeared, the open house is empty, neon lights on.
Text by Bureau A.
